Ron McKay: Escaping Brexit in France ...

That latest dip may well have its locus in the widespread protests across France by the so-called Gilets jaunes over the increases in fuel prices. Under French law all vehicles must carry a hi-vis jacket and the protestors have adopted it as their uniform. It’s estimated that up to 300,000 have taken part in demonstrations in every region of the country, blocking roads, picketing fuel depots and distributors. One person has died, hundreds have been arrested and at least two jailed. Seeing cars with bunched up jackets on the dashboard, as an indicator of support, is commonplace. Jean Lassalle, a member of the National Assembly, the lower house of parliament, was even thrown out and suspended for wearing the yellow jacket in session.

The French, of course, don’t need much excuse to take to the streets, but this one seems different. There is no apparent leadership and it has been spread by social media, rather than political parties and trade unions. It’s a movement which also has the support of the left and right – from Jean-Luc Melenchon to the far-right Marine Le Pen. It’s this broad, if unlikely consensus, which poses the greatest threat to Macron in his 18-month tenure. And according to opinion polls, it’s supported by almost three-quarters of French citizens.

The French Revolution began with riots over rising grain and bread prices. For these protestors it may be principally about oil but at a deeper level it’s about Macron’s economic policies in the face of growing frustration from low- and middle-income workers about making ends meet. To them Britain’s Brexit travails seem insignificant.

ROLL OUT THE BARREL

In a quest of heroic stupidity a 71-year-old Frenchman is setting out to cross the Atlantic next month in a barrel, powered only by the tides. True it is a rather large barrel – about 10ft x 7ft – and as well as the "captain", Jean-Jacques Savin, it has a small kitchen, a bunk, a provisions store and what Savin describes as his television, a transparent panel in the floor through which he can watch passing wildlife and discarded plastic packaging. He will have a satellite phone, an electronic bleeper which marks his passage (and will allow rescuers to locate him, hopefully) and he’s taking a harpoon to spear a few fish, oh, and a few half-bottles of Saint-Emilion so he can celebrate Christmas in his barrel and his 72nd birthday – should he reach it! – on January 14.

He sets out from the Canaries on December 20 and expects to hit land around three months later, give or take, although he’s not quite sure where his plastic barrel will run aground. “I can’t say precisely where, between Barbados and Guadeloupe,” he said, that’s a span of getting on for 300 miles, with a lot of water in between and only a sprinkling of islands.

Savin has raised 60,000 euros for his voyage and he’s also sponsored by the barrel maker. If you have a taste for schadenfreude you can follow him on www.atlantique-tonneau.com/suivez-moi.

AND IT’S GOODNIGHT FROM HIM ….

You may sneer at Nostradamus’ predictions – did he really foresee the rise of Hitler, the atomic bomb and 9/11? – but there’s one he got spot on: “Tomorrow, at sun up, I will no longer be here.” And lo and behold when it came up he wasn’t. Similarly, Henry Ford wasn’t wrong. His last words were “I’ll sleep well tonight” although he may not have envisaged the length of the slumber.

Elvis, however, got it horribly wrong. His last words were: “I’m going to the bathroom to read.” Leonardo da Vinci, perhaps the greatest-ever artist, wasn’t convinced about his talent to the end. “I have offended God and mankind because my work did not reach the quality it should have,” he said before his life was painted out. Bogey had a different regret. “I should never have switched from Scotch to martinis,” his said in the metaphysical last chance saloon.

But it’s to the controversial Scottish psychologist RD "Ronnie" Laing – he believed schizophrenia was a theory rather than a fact – who inadvertently went out with the best exit line. He was just 61 and worried relatives and friends gathered round his bed. One cried: “Get a doctor.” “I am a f*****g doctor,” Ronnie responded and expired.

OPENING SALVOES

So much for exit lines. There have been equally great opening ones in books. A favourite is, “All this happened, more or less,” by Kurt Vonnegut in Slaughterhouse Five, The book was partly based on his experience as an American prisoner of war experiencing being fire bombed in Dresden in February 1945. The late, incomparable Iain Banks opens The Crow Road with "It was the day my grandmother exploded”. But how about this in The Long Glasgow Kiss by Craig Russell? “There are some concepts that are alien to the Glaswegian mind. Salad. Dentistry. Forgiveness.” The book is part of series featuring a shady problem solver called Lennox. Great lines, dodgy plots.

THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY

Scotland had its own visionary, the Brahan Seer, Kenneth Mackenzie (Coinneach Odhar), who was casting the future at the start of the 17th century. And he seems to have been a lot more than accurate than Nostradamus. He is said to have predicted, on the site of the Battle of Culloden, that “… heads will be lopped off by the score, and no mercy shall be shown or quarter given on either side.”

He talked of great black, bridleless horses, belching fire and steam, drawing lines of carriages through the glens which you might interpret as the railways, which were later built through the Highlands (before Beeching and ScotRail got to work). Did he foresee North Sea oil? “A black rain will bring riches to Aberdeen,” he wrote.

Mind you his second sight got him into trouble at the end. He was consulted by the wife of the Earl of Seaforth, reportedly the ugliest women in Scotland. The earl was in Paris. Isabella asked what he was up to and the Seer responded that he was with another, and much more better looking, woman – chucking in for good measure that the Seaforth line would come to an end (which it duly did)). Rather than standing in awe of Kenny’s predictions, Isabella had him thrown into a boiling vat of tar. I guess he didn’t see that one coming.

ARE YOU BEING SERVED?

Antonio La Torre, the “Don of the Don’, the former Aberdeen restaurateur and leader of the Neapolitan mafia, the Camorra, is accused – with his younger brother Augusto – of threatening to kill Alessandro D’Alessio, the prosecutor pursuing the case against them. A series of wire taps and interceptions of mail from their jail cells, and of Augusto’s son Tiberio (also accused), led to a series of raids where an armoury of guns and ammunition was recovered, as well as evidence of the alleged planned killing.

La Torre owned two restaurants in Aberdeen, Pavarotti’s and The Sorrento. He moved to the city with his Scottish-born wife in 1984, but was extradited in 2005 and then jailed for 13 years for fraud and racketeering links. From Aberdeen Antonio had managed the clan’s businesses, and used the restaurants to launder money, while his younger brother Augusto handled grisly business in Naples. Little brother has admitted to more than 40 murders.

The brilliant expose of the Naples-based Camorra, the book by Roberto Saviano, makes their better-known Sicilian compatriots look like lily-livered liberals. As well as drug dealings, extortion, prostitution and fraud, the mob even control the Neapolitan garment industry providing a dress Demi Moore wore to an Oscar’s ceremony. Since 2006, Saviano has lived under police protection.